


Dirtiest of Em All

by Racey



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, No main pairing rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:47:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22980451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Racey/pseuds/Racey
Summary: Ichigo is in recovery, but his ghosts continue to haunt him. Grimmjow is on a mission, and Javier (The Man) forces Aizen down memory lane. The third and last installment of the Dirty trilogy.
Relationships: Grimmjow Jaegerjaques/Kurosaki Ichigo, Hirako Shinji/Hollow Ichigo
Comments: 9
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

 **Three Day's Grace "Time of Dying"**...

_On the ground I lay  
Motionless in pain  
I can see my life flashing before my eyes  
Did I fall asleep?  
Is this all a dream  
Wake me up, I'm living a nightmare_

_I will not die (I will not die)_   
_I will survive_

_I will not die, I'll wait here for you_   
_I feel alive, when you're beside me_   
_I will not die, I'll wait here for you_   
_In my time of dying_

Onwards...

** XOXOXO **

The first thing he registered was an all-consuming pain. It encompassed his entire body like a poor replacement for skin. His head ached, his chest ached, his throat ached, and when he blinked for the first time in what felt like an eternity, his eyes ached.

The room was dim, but the light was still painful, still a nuisance. There was a faint beeping in the background, and the smell of vitamins mixed in with cleaning products and rubbing alcohol made him nervous. Ichigo had had his share of experiences with hospitals – none of them particularly good. He blinked against the onslaught of sensations flooding him out of nowhere. It felt like he was coming out of a pitch-dark, soundproofed room and stepping into a crowded hallway. He could hear people talking outside of his room, heard a gurney roll by, even heard the telephone ringing out near the nurse's station. And then, his mind decided to remind him just why he was in a hospital to begin with.

He was a fucking junkie, and he'd tried to put himself out of his own misery.

Ichigo closed his eyes as a wave of humiliation, shame, and utter pain took his breath away. He gasped, tears coming swiftly and suddenly, spilling past his lashes and down over his cheeks. He felt like a ghost, like he wasn't even supposed to be alive. Maybe he wasn't. Maybe it was all a horrible nightmare that he was just waking from, maybe he'd imagined being kidnapped and turned into a dope addict. One glance down at his bare arms was enough to make any hope disappear.

His lungs burned as he tried to take slow, even breaths, tried to fight off the panic swallowing him whole. It wasn't working. The IV in the crook of his left arm made him grit his teeth, pissed. With a strangled, rage-filled noise, he snatched it out of him and blindly threw it. He didn't realize he was sobbing as he dug his fingers into his arms, his nails creating raw-looking gouges along his pale skin. He just wanted the marks to go away. They needed to disappear. They were nothing more than a constant reminder of his weakness, of his absolute failure.

He didn't care that blood was welling beneath his fingertips. He didn't care that the sound he was making was incoherent and desperate, one long, drawn out, agonized whine. He wanted to die. Why hadn't he died? Why was he still alive? Why did he have to face the evidence of his shortcoming?

Ichigo swiped at his running nose before going right back to scraping at the track marks littering his arms. He didn't hear the door creak open, nor did he see a cup of coffee hit the floor and make a mess. He just felt warm arms around him, a voice he'd longed to hear during his darkest times, crooning in his ear as gentle fingers carded through his hair.

"C'mon, King, what're ya doin'? Stop. Yer hurtin' yerself."

Shiro's voice was wrecked, tears apparent in the soft words. Ichigo sniffled, and leaned close. He wanted to wrap himself in the familiar warmth, wanted to close his eyes for good, lullabied by his brother's comforting scent and presence. Yet, it wasn't meant to be, so he found himself burying his face into Shiro's t-shirt as he wept bitterly.

**XxxxxxX**

The next time he opened his eyes, he was lying on his back, the skin on his face tight and itchy. The pain was still a constant companion, but now his stomach was throwing its own personal mutiny as well. Ichigo swallowed air and saliva a few times before it all started racing back into his mouth. He had a second to force his body over the bed rail before he was puking like his life depended on it.

And who knew...maybe it did.

There was a hand brushing dry, orange hair out of his eyes, and a waste basket was held in front of his face. Where the hell did that come from? He squinted past pained tears at the person standing over him and instantly broke down. He just _knew_ he was dreaming now. He flopped back onto his pillow and turned away from the concerned blue eyes his dope-sick mind had conjured. How fucking cruel and unfair was it for him to hallucinate images of his dead love?

Ichigo brought a hand up to his forehead, where it turned into a fist as he squeezed his eyes shut. This kind of pain was too much for him to deal with. How was he supposed to handle this? His mind betrayed him further as he registered the bed rail lowering and the mattress dipping to accommodate the extra weight of an added body. That hand was back, this time cupping the side of his face, the gesture so wildly nostalgic, Ichigo couldn't help but lean into it, relishing the familiar roughness of the large palm against his cheek. He caught a whiff of the person's scent, and it floored him. He couldn't fight the urge to open his eyes and focus on his own personal ghost.

Grimmjow's expression was gentle, the hard crease in his forehead gone for the time being. His head was canted to the side as he stared down at Ichigo, eyes filled with concern and so many other emotions Ichigo couldn't identify.

"Hey, baby."

Ichigo's tears were hot like acid as he closed his eyes again, just bathing in the sound of his love's voice. And it _was_ his voice: that deep, sultry tenor was impossible to forget.

How was any of this fair?

"You're dead," Ichigo groaned in dismay, voice a pitiful croak.

Grimmjow didn't respond; he just brushed aside Ichigo's bangs and dropped a kiss on his forehead. Ichigo opened his eyes so fast, it made him dizzy. Grimmjow's smirk was like a rainbow after a storm. It was warm, filled with love and even a tiny bit of amusement.

"You need ta sleep," he murmured.

Ichigo shook his head, the action urgent and forlorn. He wished he had the strength to reach forward and grip his love's hoodie, keeping him in place for as long as the sickness allowed.

"Don't leave!" he gasped, a different kind of agony washing over him. "I don't want you to go, Grimm."

Grimmjow's jaw tensed, and his lips thinned. "I know, but ya need yer rest. I'll come back. I promise."

"Nooo," Ichigo moaned. "If you go now, you _won't_ come back."

"Yeah, I will."

"How? How will you come back when you're dead?"

It was too much. Ichigo couldn't cope with this kind of torment. His mind was playing the worst kind of trick on him, and his body was in an uproar. Everything was going haywire, making him more emotional than he normally would be. He couldn't stop crying, even though he wanted to. He never wanted to cry again, never wanted to show any kind of weakness again, but he had no control. He literally had no say-so over what his body was going through.

"You'll see, but ya gotta be strong. You can beat this, Ichigo."

Ichigo took a long look at Grimmjow, memorizing his bright blue hair that seemed longer than he remembered, his hooded, glowing blue eyes that made Ichigo feel like he was the only person in the world, and those full lips that were tilted up in a knowing grin. Ichigo let his eyes slide shut as a lump that had nothing to do with his illness rose in his throat.

"You shouldn't be dead," he whispered.

There was quiet for so long that Ichigo began to think that his hallucination was over. And then, Grimmjow's lips were pressed to his forehead again, his unique scent blanketing Ichigo's senses.

"I love you."

Ichigo's face crumpled as he fought the turmoil wreaking havoc with his emotions. The bed shifted, signaling Grimmjow's departure, and Ichigo opened his eyes, blinking past the tears stubbornly clinging to his lashes. He watched as Grimmjow reached over to the chair beside the bed and grabbed a navy-blue Yankee fitted cap. He put it on backwards and pulled his hood over it as he ambled over to the room door. Once there, he turned back to Ichigo and smiled, a genuine one that made Ichigo's breath catch.

"See ya later, Ich."

Ichigo stared at the door until he dropped back off to sleep.

**XxxxxxX**

His third attempt at consciousness was successful. Well, as successful as could be expected under the circumstances. He opened his eyes and turned to his right, hoping to see Grimmjow, only to find his brother staring at him, expression wary. He looked like he was waiting for Ichigo to jump off a cliff or something. Ichigo cleared his throat, grimacing at the parched tissue. He tried a smile, and it somehow worked, even though the gesture pulled at his lips in a painful way.

"Hey," he croaked.

Shiro's eyes immediately filled as he came to his feet and edged closer to the bed. He reached over and ran a hand through Ichigo's hair, his bottom lip trembling for a fraction of a second before it was hidden away with a determined bravado.

"You dumbass," Shiro admonished, voice more watery than usual. "Stupid King."

Ichigo wrapped the arm without the IV around his brother, heat blossoming in his chest. He was feeling a lot better, but something told him the worst was yet to pass. He was grateful for the reprieve, though. When they pulled apart, Shiro sat back down and just stared, his strange eyes glimmering with something Ichigo wasn't ready to acknowledge. He didn't want to talk about what had happened to him. He didn't want to relive the times where he thought he would surely die if he didn't get high. But the questions were practically screaming and waving enthusiastic hands in Shiro's eyes. Ichigo turned away from them.

"Has Dad come by yet?" he asked.

"He's been here a couple times, but you were sleepin'."

"Wh-what about the girls?"

Shiro sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Karin has, but Yuzu hasn't. Says she don't wanna see ya like this."

Ichigo nodded, but it still hurt. He wanted to see his family, but he knew he looked shameful. Everything about him was pathetic, and he couldn't blame his sister for not wanting to witness it.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, eyes still on the door, far away from Shiro's perceptive gaze.

"What?"

The way Shiro had said that one word made Ichigo slowly face him, fear of what he would see, making him shiver like an icy wind had swept into the room.

"What the fuck're ya sorry for, King? What'd _you_ do ta need ta apologize? I'm lost here."

Ichigo swallowed a few times before he finally shook his head and stammered, "I-I shoulda been stronger."

"Stop it. There's no way-"

"Shiro, _I shoulda been stronger_."

"Shut. Up. OK? I don't wanna hear that kinda talk comin' from you."

Shiro scowled and glared at Ichigo, everything he wanted to say broadcasted in his black and gold eyes. Ichigo gave up the fight for now, but it didn't change the way he felt about the situation. There had to have been something he could've done. He should have been able to resist the dope, fight its effects. _Something_. No, instead, he'd ended up a statistic.

He shook his head again and gripped the sheet under his hands. He hated himself right now. And his dreams made life no better. He'd _seen_ Grimmjow. Grimmjow had taken care of him and kissed him and encouraged him. Ichigo closed his eyes against that particular onslaught of pain. Fuck, he missed that man so much, it literally ached. It was a yawning wound that was going absolutely nowhere. Nothing he did would mend the tear Grimmjow's death had created in his heart, and if he ended up seeing his love every time he was sick, then he wished he could just die.

** XOXOXO **

"He still thinks I'm dead."

Grimmjow lowered the cigarette he was smoking and turned to his best friend. Shinji's eyes were wide, clearly shocked.

"Even though he was awake the last time?"

"He's fuckin' sick. Prob'ly thinkin' he's seein' shit." Grimmjow paused to shake his head and pull from the cigarette. After he exhaled, he continued, voice morose and laced with underlying rage. "Ya shoulda seen him, Shin. I'm gonna pull Tousen's balls off wit' mah bare hands when I catch 'im."

"Good luck wit' that," Shinji snorted. "I heard the coward's in the wind."

"I'll find him."

And he meant that with every fiber of his being. He would find Tousen, and he would end his life, but only after a sufficient amount of torture. Grimmjow still couldn't get over Ichigo's appearance. He was a ghost of his former spitfire self. His hair was longer and lacking its vibrant "oomph" that made it so utterly orange. He was painfully thin, and the scars on his arms made Grimmjow wanna break everything in sight.

"Well, I guess it's good that the kid's alive, at least."

Grimmjow didn't even want to consider what he'd be feeling had Ichigo died. The pain was too breathtaking, too acute and debilitating.

"Yeah," he grunted and tossed the spent cigarette.

He ran a hand through his hair and stared off into the distance. They were at Javier's mansion, borrowing a couple of the lavish suites. Grimmjow planned to lay low while he was back home, but only because he wanted to reinforce the idea of him being dead. He wanted to be a ghost to the people who had wronged him, that way it would hurt more when the reaper came to collect his due.

"Oh, yeah! That Unohana lady's real sweet on you, huh?" Shinji teased, a special kind of gleam in his eye.

"She's like a mom ta me, don' be a fuckin' perv."

"Duh. She dotes on you somethin' awful. It's cute."

"Shut up. Yer bein' a prick about it."

Shinji chuckled, then went silent, eyes glazing as he too stared off into the distance. Grimmjow allowed his mind to wander, but every time it did, it only went one place. He'd missed Ichigo, and seeing the younger man that one time upon his arrival back in the states hadn't been enough. He'd made it a habit to enter Ichigo's hospital room in the middle of the night, using his connect. Most of the time, he just sat beside the bed, waiting, watching, wishing he could change things. However, last night, Ichigo had come out of his sleep, breathing harshly, eyes rounded with panic. Grimmjow had seen that expression before when his parents had been unable to get their fix. He never went near his mother because he couldn't have cared less if she'd died or not, but his father had been a different story entirely.

He'd kept vigil over his old man, hoping that the sickness would get him to quit altogether. It never did, but Grimmjow had become somewhat of an expert when it came to dope-sickness. From cleaning up the green and yellow vomit, to the fevers, chills, and hallucinations – he'd gone through it all. He hated that he had to do the same for Ichigo, but this time, he understood. Ichigo hadn't asked for this. Tousen had forced it on him, created a monster and left that monster alone to devour itself.

The hatred he felt for Tousen was almost supernatural.

Grimmjow huffed a breath and closed his eyes. He just wanted Ichigo to be better already. He wanted to kiss him for real, hold him and make sure they never split ways again. After his business with Tousen and a few others, he wanted to take Ichigo and just go far away, where they could lead normal lives and possibly have happiness that wasn't tainted with danger at every fucking turn.

"Ya think the food's done?" Shinji asked, interrupting Grimmjow's thoughts.

"Nah, Retsu woulda told us."

"Yer such a momma's boy."

Shinji danced away from Grimmjow's fist, slipping back into the suite and heading over to his favorite spot by the TV. It was blasting away, as per Shinji's usual, this time showing an action flick. It looked sort of interesting, so Grimmjow followed behind him and plopped down on the couch, intent on focusing his mind towards something that wouldn't keep him in a murderous **rage.**

** XOXOXO **

"You mind tellin' me why we just gave that turd a bag fulla cash, Tats?" Nel snapped, hands on her hips.

Tatsuki rolled her eyes and kicked her feet up on her glass coffee table. They were collected at her and Yoruichi's home, discussing recent events. More like, Nel was testing her last fucking nerve.

"Because Tousen thinks he's fuckin' invincible, that's why. He's not goin' anywhere. He's gonna stay right here, and how much you wanna bet he really thinks G is dead?"

Nel pouted and flounced over to the recliner. "Fuck. I think I just really want that guy dead already. He's such an eyesore."

"He's already a dead man walking," Hal commented from her spot on the floor next to the coffee table. "I'm just glad we got ta dat boy before _he_ died."

Tatsuki nodded and sipped a beer, the neck of the bottle clenched in her hand. She couldn't believe what Tousen had done to Ichigo. She'd assumed he'd tortured him, but not with dope. She hadn't been prepared to walk in on one of her closest friends overdosed on heroin. She quietly shuddered in remembrance. It had been horrible. Ichigo had been convulsing and foaming at the mouth, his body frightfully skinny and pale. Honestly, if she'd been aware of Ichigo's state before giving that cash to Tousen, she would have killed him herself, dibs on the guy be damned.

"Yeah, well, I guess now we jus' wait," Nel continued, sulking. "Though I _hate_ waiting."

"We know," the entire room chorused before bursting into laughter.

Tatsuki glanced over at Yoruichi, who was deep in thought near the window. The purple-haired woman hadn't said a word since they'd rescued Ichigo, but Tatsuki knew it had to be eating at her. Ichigo was her friend as well.

But what Nel said was true. Now, they just had to wait. Genevieve had informed them that Tousen's life had a claim to it already, so they had been invited to work for The Man AKA Javier Yasutora. Tatsuki had heard all sorts of rumors about the guy, ranging from a charitable philanthropist to a terrifying drug lord. She was sure he was both and then some. Guys like him made it a habit to be comfortable in more than one skin.

They'd agreed because the money sounded too tempting to pass up. But the waiting game was excruciating. There was so much drama unfolding in the streets right now, and it had Tatsuki excited. She wanted to get out there and pound the pavement, make some Blood heads roll. She wanted to be in the thick of action, where the fire was hottest. Sitting on their thumbs wasn't their style, and something had to give soon.

She turned back to Yoruichi and was thrown by the haunted look the brown-skinned woman wore. Something else was off, and it was just another tally to add to the strange list.

** XOXOXO **

"I've been waiting," Javier called as Aizen was trundled into an empty warehouse.

The door was slammed behind them, the noise echoing ominously, but Aizen wasn't fazed. He would only begin to worry when Javier's eyes changed. Right now, they still seemed amiable and willing to negotiate.

"Apologies. I would have come sooner, but there was traffic."

Javier chuckled as he approached, demeanor full of good-nature and well-being. It was easy to be deceived by the outward graciousness. Aizen remained alert, eyes darting around the warehouse, taking in everything. He spotted a few guards along the walls, but the room was cavernous, so they seemed rather insignificant. Javier waved him over to a couple of sepia-colored, plush, high-backed chairs that reminded Aizen of something Victorian and ancient.

"Come. Sit with me. I'd like to talk."

The words were succinct and crisp, and Aizen detected the cool tone a mile away. "What do you want to talk about, Javier? Could we not have discussed this over the phone?"

"I've tried that, remember? You didn't wish to cooperate."

Javier looked him over, expression casual and uncaring, but his eyes burned with indignation. If Aizen wanted to get out of this alive, he figured he should play along. He strolled over to one of the chairs and carefully lowered himself into it. Javier followed suit across from him and waved his hand, a slight gesture that summoned one of the guards to him.

"Bring the tea and the table from the office, please."

The guard, a tall, burly, brown-skinned man with a low mohawk and gold teeth, nodded and moved off to a door on the other side of the large room. Meanwhile, Javier's eyes were hawk-like as he studied Aizen and crossed his legs.

"You look well, my friend. Life has been good, no?"

Aizen narrowed his eyes at the thinly veiled threat, but gave a small grin anyway, amused. "Yes, I would say so. It's been the same for you, am I right?"

"For the most part."

Javier never minced words. He certainly didn't participate in idle chit-chat without a motive, so Aizen just sat, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He only refrained from outright asking what Javier wanted since the man would more than likely take offense and things would only deteriorate from there. Best not to push his luck.

They sat in silence for a while, Javier's shrewd eyes still picking him apart, until the guard from earlier, plus one, sauntered over. The plus one carried a low, wooden table that seemed pretty sturdy, and the guard from earlier carried a tray laden with tea and all the fixings. Aizen smiled pleasantly as the area was set and cups were poured. Once the tea was passed out, Javier reclined in his seat, legs still crossed and a faintly curious smirk tugged at his lips.

"So, tell me, Sosuke. Why do you think I brought you here?"

Aizen sipped his tea, not surprised at the high quality, before he sat back in his own seat and eyed the man across from him. "I assume it has something to do with the rising tensions between the Bloods and Crips."

Javier's lips quirked before he shook his head and arched a dark brow. "Not quite." His accent was pronounced when he leaned forward and pinned Aizen with a stern look. "Your men killed Starrk, and I think we _both_ know who killed JJ. I believe you have some explaining to do, Sosuke."

Aizen liked to think that he was good at keeping his true emotions and reactions at bay. Most people even said he had an impeccable poker face. However, Javier's words triggered an emotion – a reaction – that he hadn't exactly expected. Hearing that last name felt like a demon had climbed out of Hell. JJ, James Jaegerjaques: there was nothing about the man that he liked, and that included his son, who had ended up turning out just like his father.

"JJ was business," he clipped with more calm than he felt. "Starrk was an unfortunate casualty."

Javier remained silent, but lightning flashed behind those green-gray eyes. He shifted and sipped his tea before setting the porcelain cup on the table beside them. Once he folded his hands in his lap, he tilted his head to the side and licked his lips, his thick mustache twitching.

"Please, tell me how you came to that conclusion."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's a little short.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

****

_Hueco Mundo High School_

_Years Ago_

****

_He adjusted his glasses and looked around the large classroom at the various teenage faces from his perch in the back. They were too busy chatting or engaging in horseplay to even notice his presence. All except one, of course._

****

_“Yo, Sosuke, what's up?”_

****

_Aizen scowled as he registered the quiet, deep baritone of his tall, dark-haired neighbor. He adjusted his glasses again and slowly faced the handsome teen settling into the desk beside him. He gulped a little and studied the clear blue eyes that always seemed to see right into his soul._

****

_“Hello, James.”_

****

_James Jaegerjaques, better known to his peers as JJ, smirked and turned to the backpack he'd just plopped onto his desk. “You talk like an old man, dude.”_

****

_The first time JJ had accused him of such, Aizen had been indignant, totally offended at the notion...until JJ had turned that disarming smile on him. Against all better judgement, Aizen had swallowed his anger and accepted the gentle ribbing. Now, he was used to it, so, instead of getting upset as he was prone to do, he rolled his eyes and hid his own smile._

****

_Before he could make a comment, the classroom door burst open, revealing a blond teenager with a weird haircut. The teen made a beeline for JJ's desk, grin wide and up to no good. He swooped in for what Aizen assumed was a hug, but JJ's large hand prevented it, grasping the blond boy by his narrow face._

****

_“Kisuke, use your words,” JJ rumbled._

****

_Urahara Kisuke straightened with an exaggerated pout and crossed his arms over his chest. “So mean. Anyway, guess what, JJ!”_

****

_“No, just tell me.”_

****

_“JJ!”_

****

_“...Kisuke.”_

****

_Urahara rolled his eyes and perched on the edge of JJ's desk, mouth opened to no doubt start trouble, but before he could get another word out, a smooth voice floated from behind._

****

_“Cállate, Kisuke.”_

_Aizen watched a tall, Cuban teenager stroll towards the desk on JJ's right before slipping into it and pinning Urahara with a deadly, olive-green glare. Urahara thinned his lips and sank into the seat in front of JJ, who turned to the newcomer with a sideways smirk that gave Aizen butterflies._

_“What's happening?”_

_Javier Yasutora shrugged, grin cryptic and haunting. “Just Kisuke being a chismoso.”_

_JJ shrugged. “Oh. ...What's that?”_

_Javier chuckled, voice already deeper than the usual teenage boy's. “Ehm...gossip?”_

_JJ's eyes brightened with a mischievous light as he snorted. “That makes a lot of sense now.”_

_“Heyyyy,” Urahara whined like a five-year old. “I'm right here, you know.”_

_“Jesus Christ, Kisuke, shut uuuuuuup,” a slow, lazy drawl grumbled, though muffled._

_Aizen craned his neck to get a glimpse of the sleeping brunet draped over the desk in front of Javier. Coyote Stark had his head buried in his arms, his voice emanating from the depths of the pit he'd created. He carefully lifted his head, wavy brown locks brushing across his face as he sent Urahara an arctic-gray death stare._

_JJ smirked at the scene as Javier chuckled. Aizen sighed and shook his head as the teacher entered the classroom and called the students to order. What he'd just witnessed was nothing new. The group of teens were thick as thieves, every last one of them sinfully handsome and popular in their own ways. However, Aizen only had eyes for one of them, and that one was currently leaning across the aisle in his direction, blue eyes vivid as the ocean on a clear, Summer day._

_“Sosuke, you got a pen?”_

XOXOXO

Javier massaged the space between his eyebrows as he gave a hefty sigh. “Sosuke...this is not news. In fact, I'm sure we all knew of your infatuation with JJ. It doesn't explain why you suddenly began to hate him...so much so that you fucking shot him.”

Aizen's deep brown eyes narrowed with what Javier could only identify as annoyance. He sat back in the comfortable chair and steepled his fingers, his gaze cool as he considered Javier.

“Are you going to let me tell my side of the story? Or are you content with interrupting and assuming?”

Javier arched a brow and did his own version of sitting back and regarding the man before him. Aizen wore an impeccable poker face when he wanted to; it was one of the things that infuriated everyone who knew him.

“Fine. My apologies. Please, do continue.”

“Thank you.”

XOXOXO

_Hueco Mundo High School_

_Years Ago_

_Aizen gathered his belongings as the bell rang signaling the end of class. Their math instructor had been feeling particularly cranky, tossing out a pop quiz when Urahara had gotten too mouthy. That had done nothing but turn the entire class against the blond. Aizen thought it was hilarious. The students could never really hold a grudge against their beloved class clown anyway._

_Aizen climbed to his feet, slung his bag over his shoulder and was headed towards the door, when a strong hand gripped his upper arm for a brief moment. He turned to the offender and froze up. JJ was standing over him, his height impressive, his serious face inhumanly handsome._

_“Your pen,” he grunted._

_Aizen glanced down at the black pen he'd loaned JJ earlier in the class and shook his head. “Keep it. I have others.”_

_“You sure? I know how you can be about your stuff.”_

_“I said so, didn't I?”_

_JJ's smile teased the corners of his full lips. “Yeah, you did. Thanks, Sosuke.”_

_Aizen nodded as JJ eased by towards the door. He smelled amazing as usual, like a lazy Sunday morning, and his shoulders were broad and strong looking. He didn't realize he'd stopped in his tracks to stare at the young man until a pair of curious, gray eyes brought him out of his reverie. Urahara's gaze was entirely too amused for Aizen's liking, so he averted his stare and hustled out of the classroom._

_He tried to move through the hall unseen, as was his usual, but this time, he wasn't alone. A slender arm found its way across his shoulders, and when he glanced over, he came face to face with a narrow, devilish smirk._

_“Hey, Aizen. Can we have a chat?”_

_Aizen wanted to roll his eyes and depart from the entire situation but figured he would entertain it, just because he was curious of what Kisuke Urahara could possibly want._

_“What is it that you wish to chat about?”_

_Urahara paused for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. “You really do talk like an old man, huh?”_

_Aizen wanted to protest until he realized that Urahara’s words meant that JJ had to have mentioned him to his friends. The thought almost made him blush. Instead he averted his eyes and waited for Urahara to say what he had to say._

_“Well, anyway. I noticed that you tend to stare at my buddy a lot. Does that mean you have a crush on him?”_

_Aizen scowled. He’d had an idea that this was the topic of discussion on Urahara’s mind, but what Aizen didn’t understand was why Urahara felt it was his business._

_“Why should I answer that?”_

_As if affronted, Urahara mock-gasped, an impish grin curling the right side of his mouth. “Because I might be able to help you!”_

_“You expect me to believe that?” Aizen snorted with a roll of his eyes._

_Before Urahara could continue, yet another loud, boisterous voice filled the hallway, interrupting the conversation. A tall, dark-haired teen moved through the crowd of students effortlessly, eyes dancing with mischief._

_“Yo! JJ!” the teen called, although his shouting seemed completely unnecessary._

_Aizen tried to discretely find his blue-eyed crush, even with Urahara’s thin arm still slung across his shoulders. It didn’t take long to spot JJ casually leaning against a locker, arms folded over his broad chest._

_“Isshin, isn’t it too early for you to be this noisy?”_

_The other tall, dark-haired teen grinned from ear to ear as he sidled up beside JJ. They were close to the same height, JJ beating Isshin by a scant few centimeters._

_“It’s never too early to be joyous, my good buddy!” Isshin crowed as he too leaned against a locker._

_JJ snickered and went silent. It appeared Isshin had much more to say, but his attention was suddenly stolen by an apricot-haired beauty who happened to walk by with a few of her equally pretty friends. She glanced over at Isshin with a coy grin, her finger twining a coil of hair around it before she turned back to her friends. The effect was instantaneous. Isshin’s eyes went dark with unmistakable determination as he mumbled something under his breath and followed behind the object of his heart’s desire._

_Everyone in Hueco Mundo High knew about Isshin Kurosaki’s mountainous crush on Masaki. It even served as amusement for the teachers. Masaki had yet to acknowledge Isshin’s devotion, but everyone could also see that she liked him just as much as he liked her. It was inevitable that they end up together. Masaki just seemed to enjoy torturing the boy until then._

_Aizen sighed and rolled his eyes, his gaze going back to his own crush. His situation was pretty hopeless, however. Even though JJ was quiet, his presence was a powerful force. Many students sensed it and had their sights set on him, girls and guys alike. Aizen knew he didn’t stand a chance, but the thought was a nice one._

_His heart stuttered in his chest when he realized that he was being watched by said crush. JJ had his head tilted to the side a bit, a perfect dark brow arched in confused amusement. And that was when Aizen remembered his unwanted guest. Huffing a breath, he shrugged away from Urahara’s grip. The moment had passed, and there was no way in Hell Aizen was about to share his secret with Kisuke the gossip – offer to help be damned._

**_XxxxxX_ **

****

_For the next few months, school crept by as usual. It was their last year in high school, but nothing had changed. In fact, it seemed things were meant to stay the same. Except for one, of course._

_Aizen’s eyes were glued to the book in his hands as he enjoyed the crisp weather outside on one of the benches surrounding the large campus. Imagine his shock when a tall being gracefully settled beside him, movements stealthy as a cat’s. Startled, he turned to his guest and had to keep his mouth from falling open._

_“…What’s up, Sosuke? Why ya out here all alone?”_

_It took a while for Aizen to find his voice. “I-um…I uh…I enjoy it. Being alone. Actually.”_

_JJ chuckled. “You don’t sound too sure about that.”_

_Aizen shrugged as he pretended to focus on his book again. “I’m used to it.” After a small stretch of quiet, his curiosity got the best of him and made him turn back to the beautiful teen beside him. “What are you doing here, James?”_

_JJ gave him a sideways glance and shrugged. “I like bein’ around you for some reason.”_

_Aizen’s blush was sudden and all-consuming. That had been the last thing he’d expected from JJ. It was almost too much. What did that mean, exactly? Was JJ saying that he enjoyed Aizen’s company? Did he want to be…friends? He had to be sure._

_“Are you making fun of me?” he asked, eyes narrowed._

_JJ outright laughed at that, the sound deep and hypnotizing. “No, man. I’m just saying. It’s peaceful around you. Even though you talk like an old geezer.”_

_The last statement had been made with a sly grin that made Aizen’s blush flare up again. This was going to be an issue. Aizen coughed into his fist, squirming, trying to find something to say that wouldn’t feel so awkward._

_“Don’t think too hard about it.”_

_Aizen nodded, heat reaching the tips of his ears, down to his chest. “OK.”_

_“What book ya readin’?”_

_“Um…_ The Alienist _by Caleb Carr. Have you ever heard of it?”_

_JJ didn’t turn to face him, but Aizen saw him smirk. “Yeah, actually. It’s one of my favorites. Dr. Laszlo Kreizler, huh? You read the other two books in the series?”_

_Aizen couldn’t stop himself from staring if he tried. He was mind-blown. And sure, it was kind of lame of him to judge JJ by his appearance, but it didn’t hide the fact that this was yet another unexpected side of his crush. Just what else didn’t he know about JJ?_

_“I-I have. They’re equally as enthralling. Would you also happen to read Dan Brown?”_

_JJ turned to face him this time, a big smile forming. “The author of the DaVinci Code and Inferno? Angels and Demons? The Lost Symbol? Hell yeah, I’ve read his stuff. It’s extremely ‘enthralling,’ as you say.”_

_Aizen couldn’t keep himself from smiling in return. Dan Brown and Caleb Carr were two of his most favorite authors, and JJ not only knew of them, but he favored them as well. It was such an adrenaline-inducing feeling that suddenly caused him to open up like an automatic door._

_“I_ love _his writing. After the first time I read the DaVinci Code and The Lost Symbol, I had goosebumps and chills for days. He gives such life to the characters, and his action scenes are so engaging – you feel like you’re actually there witnessing it, rather than just reading it. It’s really good stuff. And there’s this other book that I think you’d like…why are you looking at me like that?”_

_Aizen’s speech came to an abrupt stop at the bewildered look on JJ’s face. Had he said something wrong?_

_JJ took a moment, but finally smiled – a genuine one – and shrugged. “That’s just the most I’ve ever heard you say at one time since I met you.”_

_Aizen really wished he could hide his blush. It was so embarrassing._

**_XxxxxX_ **

****

_“Just try it. You won’t regret it, I promise.”_

_Aizen smirked as he watched a wrinkle form across a straight nose and blue eyes narrow._

_“What is it?”_

_“You really are like a child, aren’t you?”_

_“Don’t be a jerk, Sosuke. Can’t ya just tell me what that is?”_

_“No,” Aizen stated, small grin still lifting the corner of his lips. “Here. It’s good.”_

_JJ grimaced but held out a large hand. Aizen set the small pastry in the dark-haired teen’s palm with a satisfied flourish, chuckling quietly when JJ rolled his eyes and popped the treat into his mouth, albeit with slight hesitation. After chewing for a moment, JJ’s face brightened with pleased surprise._

_“Wow, that is good. …What is it?”_

_Aizen finally relented with a smug look. “It’s a mango cake puff.”_

_JJ hummed and licked his lips. “I like it.”_

_Aizen was busy staring at his crush’s mouth. JJ was unfairly handsome, but he didn’t even acknowledge it. At least, Aizen didn’t think so. He was still ogling the other teen when a deep, low laugh startled him out of his reverie._

_“Ya know, Sosuke, you stare at me a lot. Why’s that?” JJ drawled as he leaned onto the small cafeteria table where they were seated._

_Aizen felt like he’d suddenly swallowed his tongue. He tentatively met vivid blue eyes, wondering if JJ was making fun of him. But he should have known better. JJ made it very clear when he was joking around. Right now, he was deadly serious. Aizen opened and closed his mouth a few times, wondering just what he could say that wouldn’t reveal his true feelings. He couldn’t confess and risk being utterly humiliated._

_Before he could answer the casual question, a thump indicated another person’s arrival at the table. Olive-green eyes twinkled as Javier Yasutora gave them a benevolent grin._

_“My, my. You two sure have been spending a lot of time together.” With that, he turned to JJ specifically. “Am I missing something?”_

_JJ let his gaze linger on Aizen for a while longer as if saying he wouldn’t forget about their conversation, then he faced his best friend. “Yer not usually this nosy, Jav. What’s up?_

_Javier shrugged and leaned his chin in his palm, his arm resting on the table. “I dunno. I guess I’m just curious. You never show this much interest in anyone outside of our circle.”_

_JJ chuckled and mimicked Javier’s pose. “What’re you, my mom now?”_

_Aizen watched his crush, completely enraptured. JJ was not only handsome but smart, witty, funny, and his voice did very wicked things to Aizen’s imagination. There were many times he caught himself wishing he could be a little bolder with the dark-haired teen. However, he knew that was wishful_ and _foolish thinking. JJ couldn’t possibly be interested in him._

_He quietly observed the conversation, a smile forming without his permission. He’d discovered over the recent time spent with JJ that what had seemed like a quiet, aloof person at first had, in fact, turned out to be a rather talkative teenager. Aizen supposed it had to do with JJ’s comfort levels. The more comfortable he felt around someone, the more he had to say. Aizen’s face warmed a little at the thought of JJ being relaxed enough to chat openly with him._

_“We’re having a meeting at my place later. Are you still coming?” Javier asked._

_JJ nodded, expression guarded. “I’ll be there.”_

_With that, the Cuban teen gracefully left the table. Once he was a suitable distance away, JJ gave Aizen an intense look, blue eyes blazing under the fluorescent lighting._

_“So, you gonna answer my question or not?” he rumbled. “I didn’t forget, ya know.”_

_Aizen sighed. There didn’t seem to be a way out of this predicament at all. He’d had a temporary savior in Javier, but now the spotlight was back on him. He was still trying to come up with something that wouldn’t make him look like an idiot, when JJ gave a low chuckle that seemed to vibrate the table. He slowly rose from the table and glanced down at Aizen with a knowing grin._

_“I already know, Sosuke. I jus’ wanted ta see if you would tell me yerself. I’ll wait ‘til yer ready, though.”_

_After such profound statements, JJ ambled away, gait slow and confident. Aizen stared, stunned and speechless._

****

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